Tuдџkan Geг§er Guide

Is it the way the autumn leaves let go?Or how the river hides its deepest flow?The melody you hummed still haunts the hall,A gentle rise before the final fall.

The city lights are blurred again,Filtered through a window pane of rain.Your voice is just a ghost upon the wire,A flicker in a cold and dying fire. Tuğkan Geçer

They say the weight of yesterday will fade,That time will heal the debts we never paid.But in the silence where the shadows lean,I search for what the "passing" really means. Is it the way the autumn leaves let go

For every storm eventually must tire,And every heart must walk through its own fire.The morning comes, however slow the light—It passes, like the deepest part of night. however slow the light—It passes